Chipping Sparrow
by hundredtimes
Summary: It's all almost over, so why does it feel like she's put her life on repeat? Spitfire. One-Shot


Every breath stung, her lungs ached, her muscles begged for her to stop. She couldn't, she wasn't there yet, and she had to keep running through the pain and the forest. She would get there soon. They can't have left yet. Even knowing she was still being chased, and knowing there was no way she hadn't outrun them by now, she didn't dare stop to put pressure on the gash along her arm- despite knowing it was leaving an obvious trail to follow.

She heard murmuring in front of her, the sounds of leaves shifting, and the unmistakable barks of Wolf. She found it in herself to push harder. She was loosing time. She was close enough she knew she could risk it so she shouted, "WAIT! PLEASE!"

Over the cold wind rushing past her ears and through her lungs, and her own thrashing through the forest, she wasn't able to hear the split second Superboy hushed the rest of his squad before rushing towards her. She wasn't able to hear Wally's sharp intake of breath as Superboy caught his eye with purpose. She certainly wasn't able to hear the burst as Wally took towards the sound without even bothering to replace his goggles.

When she saw his red hair, she felt her heart leap to her throat. She'd fought him minutes ago, but now she knew she wouldn't be pretending anymore. She would be able to hold him and kiss him and go home. She let her guard down.

She never should have let her guard down until she was safely back at whatever they were using for base- now that she'd blown up the cave. If she'd waited, if she hadn't stopped, she would have felt the shift in the air, she would have felt his presence.

It was like déjà vu. She'd been here before; she'd acted this part out already. This scene was over, so why did she tense up, blade slicing through her stomach, heartbeat roaring in her ears? She looked down, the tip of a lance above her navel. As she reached her hands up to- what? Stop the bleeding, push it out, see if it were really happening? She felt it slide out like silk. She looked up, she knew he was running as fast as he could, but the world had slowed. Though he had caught her in his arms before she felt the ground beneath her, she could barely feel his arms around her.

She felt the tears though, every one of them felt like a wave against her skin. She heard him shouting her name, his voice raw and desperate. She reached up, so slowly, it must have seemed an eternity to him. He'd confessed to her once that sometimes he felt like everything happened too fast to him because of his speed. She'd told him it was an illusion, and that everyone felt that way, as they got older. She'd told him that as long as he made a point to pay attention it wouldn't seem to rush by so fast.

But as she lay there, in the forest of wherever they were, hard grass under her legs surrounded by the faces of those who'd long thought her dead, she knew she hadn't paid enough attention. There was no way; everything had gone by so fast. So much time wasted.

When her palm came closer, he'd bent his head towards it, always knowing what she wanted before she'd fully made the effort to reach for it. Her fingertips reached his lips, her palm curling around his jaw. She smiled. She knew he could never resist smiling back at her, and she hated to see him in so much pain, not when she finally was able to be near him again.

Even as he fought the smile, the corners of his mouth lifting up, he whispered, "don't."

So many don'ts.

But she knew the main one. They hadn't needed M'gann's mind link in years.

"_You_ don't," her voice was able to crackle out. She brushed her thumb against his bottom lip as he let out a laugh on a huff of breath.

But he sobered quickly, "you can't, Artemis."

Even though she couldn't feel any pain, and even though so much was heightened, and she felt like she could float away and there wouldn't be any pain or struggling to it, she knew he was right. She couldn't. Not like this.

Not with the birds that woke her up every morning in Palo Alto chirping her on, not with him holding onto her hand.

She smiled again, and in a haze looked around her again, at some point time had shifted. What had seemed to her to be only moments really had been hours at least. She'd stopped and paid attention. Though the birds weren't really birds, and the cold ground had apparently been changed to linen, she'd paid attention to him, and the spin of time.

She looked back to Wally, his hand gripping her own, his eyes barely shut, no doubt only drifting between sleep and awake for moments at a time. She squeezed his hand, and his eyes peeled open. As though he knew this were important, but his body refused to acknowledge it. She sighed deeply, even though it hurt. She'd find out the damages later, the horrible cost. But she was alive, with him, so she could only say one thing to him in that moment when his joy was so apparent on his face: "I couldn't."


End file.
